You Wouldn't Fall For That
by l0stinl0ve
Summary: All Draco wanted to do was apologize, well, ok, maybe he wanted a little more, but still, he couldn't even get past the apology. Small Lime towards the end.


**Title:** I Know You Wouldn't Fall For That  
**Character/Pairing(s):** Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger  
**Summary:** All Draco wanted to do was apologize, well, ok, maybe he wanted a little more, but still, he couldn't even get past the apology.  
**Prompt:** "I know you wouldn't fall for that" The prompt needs to be written into the fic.  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings:** EWE, Oral, Lime  
**Author's notes:** Written for the _"For Baltimore Lyric Prompt" Challenge_. Also using this for the _Character Trait! Boot Camp Challenge_ under manipulative!Hermione and the _Your Favorite Hogwarts House Boot Camp Challenge_ for Common Room.  
Thank you to tygermine for being a fantastic beta.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, and maybe even some of the stuff you don't.

* * *

It had been weeks since school had started, and Draco was still at square one. Surprisingly, and for this he was most thankful, he was made Head Boy. It was supposed to make his goal all the more attainable – and it kept him from the dungeons, where the Slytherins weren't sure what to make of the Malfoy family. Only one of the Golden Trio – and let's be honest, the one that really mattered – was the one to return for their proverbial eighth year.

He was able to speak with her in the Head compartment on the train ride to Hogwarts, and all he managed to do was apologize and she accepted – at least she said she did, but Draco was more apt to disagree. And that was that. She didn't leave any room for further discussion. She just opened her book and ignored Draco the rest of the way.

When they arrived in Hogsmeade, she dashed out faster than Crookshanks chasing Scabbers. He figured she was just excited to see all her friends or be back at school.

He wished that was the case. But no, they hadn't spoken since then. Even when they needed to discuss Head duties, she found a way to get a prefect to talk to him. If he tried to reach out to her, she'd quickly make excuses and be off.

If he purposely left the common room in disarray, she would clean it up and leave him a note! A note! He tried hiding out in the kitchenette to catch her studying by herself, but she'd always have the She-Weasel with her.

It was maddening! He just wanted to start over with her. Try and be her friend. Maybe more, if the rumors of the ill-fated romance between her and the Weasel were true.

He tried to think of when he started wanting to be friends with her. Well that was easy, he had always admired her, since first year, actually – not that he'd admit that to anyone. She was able to figure out a challenge that his godfather – rest his soul – had set up, and she was eleven! Eleven! When he learned she was a mud-muggleborn, needless to say, he was very, very confused. He asked his mother about it that summer – fearing that asking his father, he would not only disregard the question, but punish him for daring to ask – and all mother could say was "Are you sure?"

He could easily pinpoint when he knew he wanted more. Most the school probably wanted to get into her knickers after the Yule ball – but not him. No, Draco found that after she made a fool of him on the pitch in second year – she was nothing like Pansy or the Greengrass sisters. She didn't idolize him because of his name or his prestige. What mattered were actions. He could respect that, and that respect just grew to feelings he didn't understand at that age; especially when she hit him after the Buckbeak debacle. She was everything a Malfoy is taught to look for in a bride, but at the same time she represented what a Malfoy shouldn't want. She was an enigma, and his entire Hogwarts career was spent trying to figure her out.

And now he had an opportunity and she was just not having it, and here he sat drinking some Firewhiskey – Firewhiskey he smuggled in, hoping to be caught by the elusive Head Girl and being told off for disregarding his duties as Head Boy. Yes, he was that desperate!

When the common room's door slammed open, he almost dropped the glass of his precious liquid. He scowled at whoever came in, only to immediately mask his face. Hermione was looking at him with a look he had never seen before. He thought he should see anger, his latest plan did seem to be working, but all was there was…was lust?

"Why are you drinking Draco?" Hermione asks while slowly walking over to him. Did her hips always sway that way?

"Uh…umm…" She reaches him and grabs the glass out of his hands and takes a generous drink out of it.

"Well, that is some good Firewhiskey." She puts the glass down onto the coffee table and straddles his lap. "Is there a reason you're drunk?"

Yes, you. It takes him a moment to actually answer, "No, I just had the stuff and wanted some."

"Oh, well then you wouldn't mind sharing, would you?" She reaches over him for the bottle making sure that her chest is right in his face. When did those buttons come undone?

Once the initial shock had finally past, he looks up to analyze her face. When he still can't determine what is going on, he asks her "What are you doing?"

She wiggles on his lap, "Trying to get comfortable."

"No."

He puts his hands on her hips to hold her still. He really can't have her continue squirming, otherwise she'll notice some things, some things that he really didn't want her to know about until later, much, much later – like after they became acquaintances, then friends, then lovers – that was the right time for her to notice how stiff he was. "Why are you sitting in my lap? Why are you talking to me all of a sudden?" He asks, and in a whisper he continues "Did I really drink that much…"

She giggles, and it only causes her body to shake more. He's really going to have to push her off him, but it's the closest she's been since, well, ever. "I assure you, you're not drunk." She grabs his hands and places them on her chest, and then she starts to unbutton his shirt and brings her lips to his ear,

Draco gulps. At first his hands are just still, barely even touching her. He looks up to her face, sees no complaint, and then starts to knead her breasts. He's very gentle, afraid that this is just a drunk illusion. He asks her again, "And my other questions?"

She's kissing down his neck, following the path of the buttons she's undone, and she starts to slide down his lap until she's kneeling before him. Draco doesn't know if he even wants answers anymore, and when she has his trousers down to his knees and is pulling his cock out of his boxers, he decides he can care about it later.

She's caressing his cock like it's a newborn baby. It feels good, but he wants more, he needs more. She must have a connection to his mind, because she grips harder and she leans forward and shoves his dick down her throat.

The moan Draco releases doesn't even do her mouth justice. He is whispering his thoughts as her tongue massages the thick vein that runs along the underside of his prick.

Yes, just like that. That's amazing. Oh, please.

She's kissing the tip, flicking at the ridge, licking the shaft, working her way to his bollocks. Draco can barely breathe and he held back a moan as she sucked them into her mouth.

She takes him into her mouth once more, seals her lips and draws her head back. As she sucks his cock, Draco tries to think if he could remember ever receiving a blow job like this before. Did they even count as a blow job? No, he decided, they did not count, because this was perfect.

Little did he know, his thoughts were still being whispered out loud; Hermione, happy with his assessment, hummed.

Draco moaned her name as he slumped back against the chair, seeing stars.

When he finally had control of his breathing, his pants were already fixed, his shirt was mostly buttoned and Hermione was sitting on the coffee table looking at him.

He looks across to her, "OK…what was that?" Now is the time for answers. He will not let her distract him again. Even if she does that again, well, the thought of her doing it again…It would feel good, he tells himself.

When she starts speaking he realizes he is at half-mast and stops daydreaming.

"Well…you see…" Hermione is no longer the confident woman that walked in earlier. Her face is flushed, and the blush goes down to her chest. "I've kind of fancied you. For a while now."

Draco's jaw drops. Now that was unexpected. "Are you sure? Because from where I'm sitting, it did not appear that way."

"I was shy… And scared. I know you apologized, but I didn't know if that meant that we could be more."

He was shocked, flabbergasted, stunned, it was as if someone had casted Petrificus Totalus on him. His mouth was moving, as if to talk, but no sound was coming out.

When it seemed no response was forthcoming, Hermione's eyes started to mist over.

Draco held up his hand to stop her from leaving "No," he said. "Why couldn't you just talk to me?"

Hermione looks sheepishly away, "I know you wouldn't fall for that."

Draco was stumped, again. "And what was that earlier?" He grabs her hand to pull her onto the couch next to him.

Hermione snuggled into his arm and smiles, "Persuasion."


End file.
